


Let's Misbehave

by tealrewts



Category: South Park
Genre: 30s swing au, F/M, M/M, Multi, and i don't care, but i fucked it up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealrewts/pseuds/tealrewts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was singing to you, after all.” And then, just like that, he turned away and began to walk. Kyle was stunned, and he stood there, his face a bright shade of red, watching him leave. He couldn’t just leave like that, he couldn’t. “Wait!” he called, his mouth working faster than his mind. Stan turned toward him, smirking. “Are you coming?”</p><p>(30's-ish swing au, but bad)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Misbehave

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on this drawing by tumblr user strawberrysharkcake 
> 
> http://strawberrysharkcake.tumblr.com/post/106334465147/also-this-30s-swing-au-that-happened-yesterday
> 
> i really don't know where this is going to go so like
> 
> bear with me, i suppose

“Alright, we’re going to slow it down a bit. Thank you all for coming out tonight. Please, return home safely.” This was the tenth consecutive night that Kyle had found himself in this Music hall, watching this same band play. The band started in, and the man on stage began to sing. He had been watching this man, crooning into a microphone, his tall frame moving to the music for ten consecutive nights, praying, well, no, hoping, somewhere deep in his mind, at least, that he would be noticed. That was a flight dream, though, and he knew this well, so in the meantime he was happy to sit back in the mass of the crowd and pretend the songs were for him. " _Stanley and the Boys"_  was the premiere Jazz band of New York City- the four of them young, handsome men, catering mainly to the female population, and, well, Kyle apparently. He took a sip of the wine in front of him, his eyes subtly scanning the lead singer’s tall, lanky body.

From the moment his cousin, Genevieve, had dragged him into the hall, drunk and laughing at midnight on a Friday, he had locked his eyes on that same tall dark haired frame, belting the top notes of some song he had heard once on the radio. His heart had stopped, and though Genevieve had poked fun at him, saying he was just like all the women in that music hall, that they were all here for Stanley, he really did feel as though his entire heart was about to give out for this damn boy. So he visited every night. He visited, listening to the music, remembering some of the songs, smiling, drinking, and watching Stanley. And now, there he was, the music beginning to fade, the drums sounding the final beats, the crowd’s roaring applause filling the room. He clapped softly, smiling warmly at the band. “Thank you, everyone, thank you. You’ve been a wonderful audience.” Stan said, smirking lightly. “I wish we could play one more, but, unfortunately, our time has-” Stan's eyes immediately connected with Kyle’s. He felt his heart stop, his face flush, and his eyebrows knit. He couldn’t have looked at him, no, it was impossible, but here he was, still staring at him, still watching him, an eyebrow raised at him, fucking watching him. His breath hitched.

A small blonde boy at the piano began to close the key plate, standing up, but Stan motioned him to sit back down. “No, no. One more. You’ve all been so, so wonderful tonight, you deserve one more.” He turned to the band and whispered something. The drummer nodded, then counted them in. He stared at Kyle again, smirking, and then he licked his lips, the music starting, and then he was singing, his god like voice filling the hall, singing something about a girl, about a girl he loved, upbeat and warm, and then he was smiling at Kyle, staring right into him, but god, no, he couldn’t be staring at him, could he?

Their eyes locked tightly, him singing directly to Kyle for a few moments, and then he smiled, and began to bounce, closing his eyes, feeling the music in his spirit. Kyle couldn’t remember the last time he blinked, and he imagined he looked like something of an idiot. As the song ended, Stanley locked eyes with him once again, and just like that he winked at him. “Goodnight, folks. Thank you, again, for coming out.” He gave Kyle one more glance, then exited the stage, along with the rest of the band. The entire room was whooping and hollering, but Kyle couldn’t hear any of it, he could only hear an echoing of the song, images of Stan staring at him flashing through his mind. After what seemed like an hour, after the entire room had left, after the shock had worn off slightly, he stood up, clumsily, realizing how stupid he had been to sit there for that long, and began to put his coat on. “Here, let me help you with that.” He felt someone’s hands begin to ease the coat onto his body, and once it was on fully, he turned around. “Well, thank you, but you didn’t have to-”

The deep, pale blue eyes of none other than Stanley Marsh stared back at him, his sharp half smile burning down at him. He breathed in sharply, in shock, and stepped back slightly. “Oh, it’s no bother. It’s my pleasure, actually.” He nodded, and stared down at his hands, not knowing what to say. What was he doing here? Why was he talking to him, what did he want- what could he possibly want? “You’ve been coming every night. I’ve seen you.” Oh, fuck, he must think he’s some kind of crazed fan. This is so fucking embarrassing. He looked up again, face bright red. “I’m sorry, it- I’ve just never really, well. Music- I.” His words failed him, and after he finally stopped stuttering, Stan chuckled warmly. “Don’t worry. It’s cute.” He pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of his pockets. He lit it up, then took a deep drag. His eyes met Kyle’s, and he blew a soft stream of smoke at him. “I was singing to you, after all.” And then, just like that, he turned away and began to walk. Kyle was stunned, and he stood there, his face a bright shade of red, watching him leave. He couldn’t just leave like that, he couldn’t. “Wait!” he called, his mouth working faster than his mind. Stan turned toward him, smirking. “Are you coming?”

* * *

 

“I want to introduce you to some people. I want you to meet them, is that alright with you?” Kyle had never been to this part of town before, and as they turned down an alley, he began to grow frightened. “They’re all lovely. I’m sure they’d love you. No, I know they will. And you’ll get to see real music- well, not that my music isn’t real, of course. But other than us. You’ll get to see something new, I think you’ll really- Oh, here, it’s just down here.” He followed the taller boy down a staircase, into what seemed a basement. Stan knocked three times, hard, then shouted, “It’s Stanley! Stanley Marsh.” The door immediately opened, music blaring loudly, and Kyle was ushered inside by an aggressively excited Stan. “Where are we-” he began, but his voice petered out as he looked around. “Well? Do you like it?”

He just stood there in silence, his eyes wide, mind not able to process his current surroundings. The entire room seemed to be made of solid gold, dim lights illuminating every jewel and every wine bottle. The languid voice of a young black woman echoed through the hall, accompanied by the cacophony of laughter of seemingly every debutant and bachelor on the upper east side. He could feel the drums beat alongside his heartbeat, roaringly fast, and as Stanley expectantly stared into his soul with his sharp blue eyes, and oh fuck those eyes, how the fuck could he say no to those eyes, he decided to take a leap into the unknown. “It’s amazing.” he whispered, unheard under the symphonic sounds of the trumpets, and although he could not hear him, Stan knew, and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the crowd to a back lounge.

“Wendy!! Wend- god, where in the hell is she?” Stan said, seemingly exasperated. At that moment, a tall, blonde boy, whom Kyle recognized, but had no clue from where, walked by. Stan’s expression immediately shifted excitedly.“Kenneth! Yes, Ken, just the man I wanted to see.” Ah, yes. Kenneth, the trumpet player from the band. That’s how Kyle knew him, not that he could see past Stan most nights. He raised an eyebrow at the smaller boy, and then looked back up at Stan, intrigued. “And this is?” Stan looked down at Kyle, as if he had forgotten he was there, to which Kyle would have been offended if it were not for the excitement on his face when he looked down. “Oh, forgive me! Kenny, this is- Well, fuck, what’s your name?” he said, to which Kenny laughed, making Kyle feel foolish. “Kyle. I’m- Kyle, Kyle Broflovski.” Stan stared at him for a moment, a grin creeping on his face. The trumpets blared somewhere behind him, an abrupt noise that would have typically startled the twenty-something year old homebody, but god, something about Stan’s gaze just- caused him to lock up, almost.

“Kyle.” he whispered, breathily, having forgotten the blonde man standing in front of him. Kenneth coughed softly, in attempt to get Stan’s attention, but failing miserably. He then smiled warmly at Kyle, reaching a hand out. “It’s a pleasure, Broflovski. I apologize for, uh.” he gave Stan a look. “His behavior.” He had a lulling, almost southern twang. Stan frowned at Kenny, and was about to respond, before he was interrupted by the blonde boy. “How did you two meet?” “Outside the music hall. He visits our shows, quite often. A regular. Our biggest fan.” Stan said, a hint of pride in his voice, placing a hand on the small of Kyle’s back. Kyle shuddered softly, barely whimpering out a “Yes”. Kenny raised a brow at him, his lips quirking up. “Oh, yes? Then you enjoy music?” Kyle shook his head, readjusting his glasses. “No, no. Writing. I’m a writer.” Kenny nodded, seemingly impressed, as he took a long sip from his glass of whiskey. Kyle then chuckled, easing into the atmosphere. “Well, Writer by trade, but. For now I’m working at the library.” Stan beamed at him. “The library? How quaint.” he said, his hand moving slightly, cupping Kyle’s side. “Uh, well. Yes, the library. I- I mostly just, manage the place, but. I also tutor students. Uh, in english.” Ken nodded, seemingly interested. “College man?” “Oxford! Oxford, yes. Last- last May. I came back home immediately, though. Couldn’t stay away.” He could feel Stan’s eyes boring into his skull, but continued to ignore it, afraid he would slip up. Kenneth scoffed, looking between the two. “Well, aren’t you two a pair.”

“Pardon?” Kyle knit his eyebrows, confused. “A scholar and a drop out? It’s absolutely perfect.” He set his drink down and laughed. “I’m only teasing. Stanley is practically a brother to me.” He clapped Stan on the back gently. “His mother raised me, after all. Down and out, high school drop outs, poor, me, an orphan, him, an alcoholic. And now, look at us!” Stan smiled at Kyle, uncomfortably. Kenny was obviously inebriated. “Do you think mom would be proud?” Stan didn’t respond, coughing lightly. The man had chuckled the question, but it seemed laced with something darker. Stan patted Kenneth on the back, and searched the room. “Hey, Ken, have you seen Wendy? I’ve been looking for her.” Kenny pointed to a love seat in the back. “She’s boozing with Annie and the others- Well, boozing to put it lightly. But you know she doesn’t drink, so I suppose you could drag her away.” He laughed and leaned in close to Stan’s ear. “You seen Leopold anywhere? I didn’t catch him after the show.” Stan shrugged, beginning to pull Kyle away. “I saw them drag him onstage to play the piano for the band? Perhaps he’s up there. You know he'll come running the second you call, though.” Kenny laughed again and waved them off. Kyle turned to Stan, looking for which question to ask first, but the taller man interrupted him. “Oh, he- well, it's a long story. I’ll explain later, but first, you must- Oh, there she is! Wendy, darling.” He waved to a woman sitting at the red velvet love seat in the corner. She turned, smiled at Stan brightly, and then excused herself to a girl with what seemed to be an afro of blonde hair.

“Wendy is the heiress to the Testaburger family. They’re practically drowning in money.” He whispered in Kyle's ear. “Stanley, honey.” The woman who approached them was unlike any other he had seen. She was tall and slender, but her body had a slight curve to it. She wore a long, purple dress that hugged her figure perfectly, and unlike the general female population of their time, her hair was long, down to her hips, with a gentle curl at the tips. She had large, round doe eyes, a soft brown, and her lips were painted a bright red to contrast her pale white skin. She was beautiful, yes, beautiful, and if Kyle had not been- well, yes, otherwise inclined, he would have fancied her a great deal. “Who is this, darling?” “This is Kyle, Kyle Broflovski. An Oxford man. I met him backstage at our show tonight.” She stuck a hand out to him, smiling the most genuine smile he had seen on a woman in a long long while. “Oh, yes, absolutely! It’s more than a pleasure to meet you, my dearest. Oxford, when did you graduate? My father was an Oxford man, you know.” Her eyes were glowing so deeply, deeper than he had ever known brown eyes to be. He cleared his throat and kissed the soft skin of her hand. “Last may, actually. I grew up in the country, though. Thought it’d be lovely to come back to the city after university, but.” He chuckled. “A shoebox apartment in the middle of July is not what one would consider lovely.”

She laughed whole heartedly, and Stan smiled at her. “Oh, my dear. I can imagine, but it must be quaint, and I do mean that in the kindest. Stanley, this boy is quite a catch!” He looked down at his shoes, blushing. “He's come to see our shows every night the past month.” “Oh, have you? I’ve been meaning to stop by, Stan, I really have, but things with Token have been- well, you know how it is.” They stared at one another deeply, their eyes almost blending together. Kyle’s spirit dropped. “Uh, are you two- together?” They shared a look, and began to laugh uproariously, Stan almost doubling over next to him. Wendy put a hand on his shoulder. “No, no, god no! Well, we were once upon a time, but then.” She stared at Stanley, both smiling widely. “On our wedding night, Stanley and I- not to verge on indecent, but we were. Well, as a couple does, and then he stopped me, and do you remember what you said?” He laughed again, and nodded. “I said I wouldn’t be able to- uh. You know, finish. And she asked why, and that’s when I finally told her I was.” He looked at her for a moment, searching for his words. “That I played for the other team.” She laughed softly, covering her mouth. “It was almost quite the scandal, really, but we covered it up. Stanley here slept with as many boys as he wanted and so did I! And then, last spring we divorced. Isn’t that something?” Kyle stared at them, confused to the core. He cleared his throat. “And you’re still friends?” “Well of course, Dear! I could never lose Stanley. He’s the dearest to my heart.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And, with that, I really must go. You know how Bebe is. Tata, darling. Kyle, so wonderful to meet you. Hope to see you again soon?” She said, more so to Stan than Kyle. He nodded, smiling at her. Stan waved at her as she left, then turned to Kyle.

“Isn’t she something?” he said, smiling widely. Kyle chuckled. “Well, your relationship is definitely something. But yes, she is wonderful. I’d like to know more about you, though. At least, from you directly.” Stan looked around the room, then leaned in to his ear. “We can talk later. Would you like to see some _real_ music first?” Before Kyle could even respond, Stan began to guide him to the tables that stood in front of the small stage. They sat down at the front, and Stanley ordered two whiskeys for them. The band was playing a roaringly upbeat tune, something he had heard Stan play before. The music was beautiful, it was Jazz, and it was rough, and it filled his soul like only Jazz had before. Stan moved about along to the beat, obviously filled the same way he was, and Kyle watched him. It was beautiful, he was so enthralled in the sound, and as the music filtered to an end, and the cheering began, Kyle realized he had been watching him the entire time. The woman singing on stage bowed a little, then began to exit. The short, brown haired boy who Kyle remembered as the Drummer for Stan’s band grabbed the microphone, drunker than Kenneth had been. “Thank you- thank you all for coming tonight! The, uh- Stanley and the boys, we’re gonna-” Kenneth jumped onto the stage and took the microphone from him. “Stanley and the Boys would like to play a number for you, if that’s alright with you all.” The room cheered louder than before, and Stan looked at Kenny angrily. Ken shrugged, then moved to his trumpet. Stanley looked at Kyle and mouthed a “Sorry”, before hopping onto the stage. The room cheered for him, and he smiled at them all. “Thank you, thank you all. It’s always a pleasure to perform up here for you.” He looked at Kyle for a moment, then turned to the drummer, whispered something, then back to the microphone. “We’re going to play something kind of fast, if that’s alright.” And then the drums kicked in. And once again, he sang directly to Kyle.

His entire body locked up at the lyrics of the song. _“We're all alone, no chaperone can get our number, the world's in slumber, let’s misbehave.”_ His heart began to beat, and the redness began to come back to his cheeks. He moved his hands to his lap. _“There's something wild about you child that's so contagious, let’s be outrageous, let’s misbehave.”_ Stan’s gaze grew more and more intense as the song continued, the playful smile never leaving his lips, his eyes never leaving Kyle’s. He felt his head swim, never in a million years did he imagine- _“You know my heart is true, and you say you for me care… somebody's sure to tell, but what the hell do we care?”_ And then the music was ending, and then Stan was hopping off the stage, and then he was grabbing his hand, and then he was ushering him into the bathroom, and then Stan was locking the door, and then they were kissing, his hands running over Stanley’s arms, Stan’s strong body pushing him into the wall hard enough to bruise, and he didn’t care, god, he couldn’t care, and then his legs were wrapped around Stanley’s torso, and his shirt was coming undone, and he was coming undone, and- “Wait.” Stan stopped, both of them panting. “What’s wrong?” he said, dropping him gently. Kyle readjusted his glasses, looking up at him, his arms still wrapped around his neck. “I- Wendy said something about you sleeping with a lot of boys. Am I. I mean, is this-?” He cut himself off, but Stan knew what he was saying. He paused, looking past Kyle's eyes, and shook his head. “No, no I. No, god, you’re not. I mean, I thought so at first. When I first saw you, I mean, with your- with that woman, the first night you came, I knew I wanted this, but. The more you came, and then when our eyes met, and then here, at the party, and now- god, the more get to know you the more I realize how real this is. And I barely even fucking know you.” He softly but deliberately ground into Kyle’s hips, causing Kyle to gasp. “So we can take this slow. We can go out to dinner, we can wait months, and then we can do this.” He kissed Kyle’s neck firmly. “However you want it. I just know it’ll be worth it.”

Kyle’s head was swimming. All of this was moving so fast, so goddamn fast, he must have been dreaming, but god, no, there were the bite marks at his neck and the scratches at his side to prove it. He attempted, yet failed, to conceal a whimper. “Right, you barely know me. _Fuck, I_ \- No, no, stop, not here. Stanley. Stop.” He pushed him away. The boy stood in front of him, an eager smile painting his face, making him look like a golden retriever waiting for a command. Kyle breathed in sharply, then spoke in almost a whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it too. Believe me, I do. But - _Oh, stop looking at me like that_ \- I think it’s best for us to see where this leads. Feel it out-  _yes Stan i heard that_ -and, you know. Just. Let it be what it is.” He coughed, and blushed as he inspected his own shoes nervously. “And, besides. I don’t know if I’d completely enjoy losing my virginity to a man I met just an hour ago in the bathroom of a place I’ve never been.” He looked up after a moment to see that Stan’s smile had faded to a gentle gaze of something he had never seen before. Loyalty, almost, but he couldn’t place a finger on it. Stan nodded, and took his hand, running a finger over each inch of it, as if in memorization. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and spoke. “Would you like to go back to my place? Not- not to. Well, you know. But to talk. I’d like to get to know you. You can sleep there if you’d like, the couch is quite comfortable.” Kyle chuckled and nodded. Stanley began to guide him out of the bathroom, less eager than before, more caring, as if he could break him at any moment. “I’m all for not having it out tonight, but if you make me sleep on the couch, you’ll never seeing me again.”


End file.
